I turned around to see her slumped over her desk, staring blankly at the poster-covered wall on her left side. “Math. Why?” I heard her muttering. “Why math?”
“You really should have slept earlier. Just because I had to stay up for projects doesn’t mean you had to do it with me.”
“I just felt like it, okay?” She moved her arm under her head, then sighed. “At least we’re not doing much of anything today. I can’t think, no matter what. Jesus, I spelled my name wrong on my second period quiz.”
I held back a snicker. “And that’s why sleep is good for you.”
Then I paused for thought. “…Though I’m one to talk. Every morning, I can count the hours of sleep I got on one hand. This week has been tough.”
“Math,” she grumbled.
“I thought counting was basic math.”
“That’s enough of your sass for today.”
I laughed a bit. “At least these curve graphs look cool.”
“They’re still math.”
“I didn’t think you felt so strongly about numbers.”
She shifted her head on her arm again. “You really didn’t.”
There was a silence between us.
I had resolved to do something, but…
No, I had to.
“Then I hope you won’t take this badly.” I placed my calculator in front of her.
“What do you–oh.”
She saw it.
She saw the cardioids scattered across the screen. The rose curve front and center. Under it, the words “Do you like me more than math?”
She saw me, making a real effort to look into her eyes.